Chapter 83 - Chapter 82 - Guardian

Morning light poured over Marcilla's guild building, filling it with a soft glow."Someone seems to be in good spirits today," Marcy observed, raising an eyebrow as she scrubbed the wooden reception counter, clearing away the dust and grime. She looked up, welcoming her daughter, who entered the guild with a distinct bounce in her step."A-ah, you think so? I guess I just woke up in a good mood," Anne replied, glancing away with a shy smile and scratching the back of her head."Hm... And, when you have no work to boot... The guild is closed for today, you know." Marcy commented."Ah... Guess I wanted to help out!" Anne said cheerfully, her eyes beaming."Oho...?" Marcy hummed with curiosity, pausing her cleaning to lean on her elbow and watch Anne brush past her toward the guild's storage area."Is it a boy?" she asked, a sly smile playing on her lips."W-WHAT!? NO!" Anne's eyes widened, her face flushing with embarrassment."So, it is a boy," Marcy teased, clearly amused."F-FORGET ABOUT THAT...!" Anne stammered, shaking her head. "Anyway... so... um... do you know if Van is coming by? I kinda agreed to meet him, like, nothing serious or anything, just... Show him around."She looked away, her voice quiet and laced with shyness.But at the mention of his name, Marcy's face tightened. Her hands stilled, and her expression turned unreadable."H-He's just been a lot of help, so—""He won't come here again," Marcy interrupted, her tone suddenly firm."Ah... h-he... he won't?" Anne's face fell, confusion and a hint of disappointment flickering in her eyes as she looked back at her mother.Marcy lightly shook her head, her gaze settling on her daughter's confused expression. She sighed, loosening the tension in her shoulders."No. He has a home with his father in the capital now, so he doesn't have any reason to come here anymore," she said coolly, resuming her scrubbing."... Ah... okay." Anne replied softly, turning to continue her path toward the storage area. "Guess I'll... Just go to him or something later...""Anne," Marcy called, hesitating as if her words were caught at the edge of her throat, uncertain whether to cross the boundary."Yeah?" Anne glanced back."... The boy you're so excited about... is it him?" Marcy asked cautiously.Anne looked away, her cheeks flushing like a ripe tomato.Marcy sighed, a faint frown crossing her face as Van's words echoed in her mind. "I'd rather you stayed away from him," she said quietly."What..?" Anne whipped around, the color draining from her face."I misjudged him," Marcy went on, gripping the cloth tightly as Van's scornful words replayed in her thoughts. "That boy cares about little beyond his own desires. If he seems charming, it's only because he's hiding his true self. Don't fall for it."Anne's eyes narrowed, disbelief flickering in her gaze as her fists clenched."You're a beautiful girl, Anne—a girl most boys would line up to be with. You don't need to settle for someone like him—""Van..." Anne interrupted, her voice barely a whisper."He's not like that!" she said defiantly, surprising Marcy with her rare outburst."I've been around boys enough to know when they're putting on an act," Anne continued, her tone firm. "And he's not like that. He's got his issues, sure... but he's not the villain you think he is."Marcy's hand stilled, her eyes widening slightly as she took in Anne's words."... I'm sorry. I'll get to work," Anne murmured, bowing her head before heading toward the storage room. She paused at the doorway, glancing back. "... And I'll think about what you said, Mom."Marcy watched the door close, her gaze drifting across the empty guild hall. '"He's got his issues," huh?' she thought, eyes loosening."Yeah... guess we all do." Marcy paused, her hand resting on the scrubbing cloth as her mind slipped back to last night. She tried, just for a moment, to see things from his perspective. She wasn't usually one to overthink, but she respected her daughter's judgment—Anne was perceptive, careful about who she spent time with. And the fact that she liked Van, despite his Untrusted passive, made Marcy second-guess herself.'Am I a dumbass?' she thought, the sting of self-reproach settling in. 'Did I just forget he's been gone all these years and why he left in the first place?' Her words from last night echoed in her head.'And yesterday... I basically told him I'd straddle him just because he reminds me of Magus, not because I actually give a damn about him. Talk about ripping open old wounds and rubbing salt in them... especially with him, of all people; Telling him he'll never amount to Magus. What the fuck was I thinking?' She scoffed to herself.'... I miss Magus, but that helmet-head didn't deserve that. Hell, forget the way he cussed me out; if I were in his shoes, I'd kill anyone who did that to me—treating me like a second-rate consolation prize.'She let out a bitter chuckle.'I really screwed this up, didn't I?' She sighed, a faint frown shadowing her gaze as she looked loosely at the worn wood in front of her.'I'll pay him a visit later.' She resolved quietly as she continued her duties.==== VAN'S HOUSE ===========Van's eyes flickered open slowly, his mouth slightly agape, a thin trail of drool pooling on the torn mattress beneath him. Feathers from the shredded fabric clung to his face, soft but mocking in their fragility.For what felt like an eternity—though it was only a few minutes—he remained motionless, a statue entombed in his own body. His chest rose and fell, the only sign of life, while his gaze remained unfocused, fixed on the tattered bed beneath him.His eyes shifted, the only part of him that could summon the strength to move. He closed them again, concentrating on his arm. He could feel it—his fingers, his hand. He was sure they were there, capable of movement. And yet, they felt frozen. Stuck. Despite all the strength in his body, it was as though the muscles themselves refused to obey.His feet, bare and light, were exposed to the room's cool air. He could sense the blood coursing through them, the faint brush of the mattress's torn fabric against his skin, even the delicate touch of individual feathers grazing his toes. But today, they felt impossibly heavy, like the weight of the world pressed against his skin, bones, and sinew, anchoring him in place.His half-lidded gaze roamed lazily across the mattress.Why move? What was the point?The days were counting down until Varlog recovered, until the scholars from the demonic realm arrived to examine the summoning circle. They'd figure out how to extract whatever power it held without destroying it—or so they claimed.Until then, his role was simple: hold off any dragon attacks. Or any other attacks, really.And then, it would be over. He'd be free. Free to leave this place. Free to return.To her.To Alicia.And he could go months without eating or drinking before dying. Even then... he'd come back in peak shape.What reason was there to move? To lift his fingers, his arms, to rise from this torn and ruined bed in his trashed apartment?A deep sigh escaped him, his breath scattering the feathers clinging to the mattress.[You forgot to send me back to the spirit world after our contract.]The voice echoed gently in his mind, breaking the silence. Van blinked, his mouth too heavy to form a reply. His head dragged across the mattress as he turned it, slowly tilting to the side.There, perched on a chair, was a womanly figure bathed in sunlight. Her white hair gleamed, almost blinding against the rays filtering through the broken window above the bed—the same window the last knight had escaped through.Van stared at her impassively. She met his gaze for a moment, then turned her attention to the room's exit.Her posture was perfectly straight, her expression calm, blank—reflecting his own.Another minute passed in stillness. His tongue felt like lead, weighed down by something deeper than fatigue, as if his heart forbade him from speaking.[My previous... Master... ruined your residence, it seems. I allowed myself to arrange it while you slept. Your mana reserves were sufficient—it didn't harm me to remain outside.]Van's gaze dropped briefly, his thoughts flickering. 'I'll be leaving this place soon. She did it for nothing.'[There are still cracks and broken furniture. You should order repairs. It wouldn't hurt you financially—]"Return to the spirit world," Van rasped, cutting her off. His voice was rough, scraping against the stillness of the room.The Guardian's expression shifted, her impassive demeanor giving way to faint surprise. She locked eyes with him, searching for something behind his blank stare.Then, without a word, she obeyed. Her form faded, dissolving into the ether, leaving the room quiet once more.And Van was alone again.The bed pulled at him like a magnet, and he sank back onto it, his body heavy and unwilling. His eyes drifted shut, the darkness behind his lids offering a strange kind of solace.Yet, a small spark flickered inside him.She cleaned the house, she said?It had been a wreck yesterday—even after Alicia burned away the bile, corpses, and blood.He'd barely been here a day, but it was his place now.Is that worth getting out of bed for? he wondered.Well, if nothing else, it piqued his curiosity. She was a Guardian of Wind, after all. What else could she do?With another deep sigh, he pushed himself up, the movement slow and deliberate. He sat on the edge of the mattress, staring down at his feet as they rested against the wooden floor. His toes curled, testing the surface. He swallowed hard, his fists pressing into the bed for support.Minutes ticked by, and Van didn't move.Finally, with another sigh—one more attempt at summoning strength he barely had—he stood. His legs wobbled, but they held. He took a step. Then another. Slow, deliberate strides carried him to the exit of the bedroom.Van stopped in the doorway, his gaze sweeping across the apartment.After Alicia had burned away the blood and bile, the place had been left in shambles—furniture scattered, splintered wood and shattered glass littering the floor, everything in disarray.Now, the broken furniture was gone. The misplaced wood and jagged shards of glass had vanished. The room was still damaged—the holes in the ceiling, walls, and floor remained—but the chaos had been tamed.The space, though imperfect, was... cleaner."Holy shit, who put it out here!?" A voice bellowed from outside the apartment.Van's curiosity flickered, faint but enough to pull him toward the window near the entrance. He moved slowly, his gaze heavy-lidded as he peered out.Below, near the dumpster, a large pile of broken wood sat stacked neatly. He recognized it instantly. It had been scattered across his apartment just yesterday."Tsk... I don't know why, but I've got a feeling it's the new tenant above the tavern," grumbled a burly dwarf with a braided beard. He stood on the street, glaring toward Van's window. His eyes narrowed further when he caught sight of Van's face looking down at him."HEY! Did you put this shit here!?" the dwarf barked, his voice rough and accusatory. Van met his gaze blankly, his body unmoving, his expression unreadable.Next to the dwarf stood a young woman, her fur-covered body purple and white, with distinct cat-like ears twitching atop her head—one of the tavern's servers. Van recognized her from last night, when she'd looked up at him through the hole he'd made in the floor. He knew instinctively it was her...But she had appeared more human yesterday.Now, she looked like an overgrown, humanoid cat, her body covered in purple-and-white fur. A long tail extended from her backbone, wobbling slightly as she shifted her weight.Van's brow furrowed, and he squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing them briefly. When he opened them again, her form blurred at the edges, shifting unnaturally. He blinked several times, focusing on the image of her from last night.And just like that, she was human again. The fur, the ears—every trace of the cat-like features—were gone.... Sleeping haze? he wondered, his thoughts unsettled. But something about it felt... off. Too vivid.Too real."I-it's okay, Galdo! I'll burn it," she said timidly, extending a hand as a small flame flickered to life in her palm."HEY! Ami! If you keep doing favors like that, people are gonna step all over you!" Galdo snapped, his tone firm and scolding."I-it's just wood, Galdo..." she murmured, her flame catching on the pile and beginning to consume it, the fire slow but steady."Haaah... whatever," Galdo muttered, rubbing his temples. Then, with a growl, he turned his attention back to Van. "You! If you're gonna live here, take responsibility for the mess you cause—""Guardian of Wind, come out," Van interrupted, his tone calm but heavy with weariness.The air shifted as the Guardian materialized beside him, her form ethereal yet solid, her presence commanding attention.[Yes..?] she asked, her gaze settling on him as she stood by the window.Van's eyes flickered to the dwarf's face—the contorted scowl, the angry tone, the dismissive glare.His first thought was simple: I wasn't even the one who put it there.But arguing wouldn't work. It never worked.No matter what he said to that dwarf, Untrusted would poison it.He'd seen it firsthand at the gate when he hurled Cerile's sword past that arrogant Guard, Garry.Fear, hurt.If you inflicted those things, people left you alone. A passive like Untrusted didn't matter when terror took hold.Even the knights who tortured him had begged for mercy yesterday once they realized what he could do.Van exhaled heavily, the memory tightening his chest. "I'm too tired to move. You do everything I want, right?" he said, his voice flat, almost detached. "Teach that fucker a lesson. Cut his tongue o—"His words trailed off as his gaze flicked to the server, Ami, her hands delicately tending the flame as it worked through the wood. Her movements were careful, almost diligent.The Guardian tilted her head slightly, watching the tension ease from Van's shoulders. She waited, patient."Forget it. Once she's done burning the wood to ash, carry it away with your wind," Van said finally, his voice gentler."I don't know squat about your abilities," he added with a tired sigh, "but you can do something like that, can't you?"[... Indeed.] She nodded, her voice soft but resolute."Good," Van sighed, turning away from the window. Galdo's face twisted as he watched Van retreat into the apartment, his casual dismissal igniting a fresh wave of irritation."Why that little—!" Galdo growled, his fists clenching as he stomped toward the stairs. "Why, I oughtta—""G-GALDO, IT'S FINE, REALLY!" the servant called out, her voice shaky but insistent as she continued burning the wood. The flames danced slowly, consuming the pile piece by piece.Inside, Van glanced back at the now-cleaned apartment. "And... thanks," he murmured, his tone softer, almost reluctant.[... I merely needed to occupy myself while you were asleep. Think nothing of it.]The Guardian's voice was calm as her form began to fade, slipping through the window and reappearing outside—blocking Galdo's path just as he reached the stairs."Oh..?" Galdo muttered, his stomping halted as he looked up at her, his irritation briefly replaced by curiosity.[My master sent me to help you,] she stated, her ethereal presence unyielding as she addressed him."Psche," Galdo spat to the side, his expression hardening again. "That bastard sends his spirits to do his dirty work for him, eh? Whatever. Ain't no concern of mine. Just make sure you take care of it," he grumbled, turning on his heel and stomping back toward the tavern."Woah..." the servant whispered, her gaze following the Guardian as she approached. Her eyes widened with admiration.'She's so pretty...' she thought, momentarily awestruck.[I shall fan your fire. And take away the ash to the trash.]"Right! Thank you very much!" the servant replied cheerfully, her voice bright as she smiled.Inside, Van returned to the torn mattress, sitting heavily on its edge. His eyes drifted across the room, lingering on the faint traces of the chaos from the day before.'Remain steadfast, huh?' The memory of the presence in the so-called void resurfaced in his mind."Man," he muttered, letting out a dry scoff, "I fucking hate this place." His words hung in the still air as he pushed himself up again, shaking his head."How about I take a quest and do something for now?" he muttered to no one in particular, his tone resigned yet carrying a faint spark of determination. His gaze settled on the old, adorned sword and armor that Mika and Rika had returned to him yesterday. Reaching out, he picked up his helmet, its weight familiar in his hands.'No one will be able to catch it's me under this helmet,' He thought as he began dressing, putting on his old armor.========================="So, Anne is meeting that guy... Van, today, Mikey?" Bernard asked, leaning back in his chair with a sly grin."Yes..." Michael replied, his voice hesitant."Good. Then, when the time comes, place the seal on her. That'll ensure Anne will be yours." The blonde youth instructed as he handed out the metal seal."I—" Michael faltered, his fists clenching. "I don't want her to be mine! She belongs to no one, Bernard!"Bernard raised an eyebrow, his smirk unchanging. Michael's voice trembled as he continued, his defiance giving way to resolve. "But... if it keeps her safe... if it keeps her away from him..." Michael snatched the seal from Bernard's hand, his grip tight around the object. "I'll do it."The slave mark.Without another word, Michael bowed his head, then turned and walked away, his steps heavy with hesitation."Heh." Bernard von Brayle chuckled, watching him retreat. "He just doesn't get it, does he? That lowly shit." His voice dripped with condescension. "You don't get what you want by being nice all the time."'That slave mark is actually infected with elaborate magic my father showed me. It will bind her loyalty to me, not that dunce.'He sighed, rising from his chair and strolling toward the window. His sneering friends stepped aside, making room for him as he gazed out. The grin on his face darkened into something crueler."Anne Veil will be mine. And after her, all the Hero's women and their girls will follow with the slave mark..." He tightened his grip on the windowsill, his voice growing into a low snarl."And then..." His expression twisted into something maniacal, his teeth bared. "That bitch Melanie will pay for humiliating me... and she'll tell me who that armored fucker was!" His growl deepened as the memory of Van tearing through Amu-Rah, his fire spirit, surfaced.His laughter echoed in the room, a sound brimming with malice and ambition.